words (x-rated)

Note: I thought long and hard about whether to post this or not. It was written several years ago. Then I thought about re-writing it, but could not come up with a way that would leave its power intact. So I finally just decided to leave it as is and take a chance that the reader would understand that this, as many poems I have written, do not necessarily represent who or what I am, or what I believe in. To me that is what poetry is all about. You go with the flow, sometimes you play with it or alter the flow somewhat for clarity, but in the end you go with wherever it takes you. Otherwise it is not poetry, it is just words.

these words;

they are my women,

my bitches,

my strength,

my power,

my sluts,

my whores,

my refuge;

my escape;

I fuck em,

I leave em,

I make em bleed,

I leave em,

and still they are here

waiting,

ready to suck my cock

on demand,

willing to take it up the ass

at a moment notice;

I use them,

I beat them,

I abuse them,

I love them,

I make them smile;

I caress them

like a beautiful child,

I fondle them

like sweet young

breasts,

licking and sucking

on their nipples,

as they squeal out

in moans of indescribable

pleasure;

they take me places

far away,

where no one else

could go,

they return me

to a forgotten past,

where no one else

has been;

they speak of freedom

inside prison walls,

while dreaming of forgotten fields

where tomorrow waits;

inside them

I am inside her;

the final destination,

on a journey

with no beginning,

or end.

.

.